Zim's Journal
by BisexualDragons
Summary: Based off of a dream I had. Kinda depressing in some chapters. Zim-centric, no pairings!
1. Chapter 1

**This….was based off of a dream I had. I don't know why, but I felt the need to post it. So I did.**

**:D**

**In this, Zim knows his mission is fake. He's been on Earth seven years. He learned the news two years ago.**

**Enjoy!**

_Dear Diary/Journal,_

_Today had been rough. I think I blew a circuit in my PAK when I was downloading my personality and information into the default one. I changed PAKS because I didn't like the pink spots anymore and I think the black stripes are better. _

_The pink didn't really go with my attire anymore, seeing as I no longer wear my uniform. It reminded me too much of THEM. I didn't want anything to do with the empire anymore, seeing as they want nothing to do with me, so I wear Earth clothes now. Much more comfortable, if I do say so myself._

_I wear a black T-shirt with a skull in the center, black skinny jeans, and black boots that come to my knees. Hey, that rhymed! XP. Anyway, I've become attached to these spiked collars (also black) that Gaz gave to me to wear around my neck and another around my lower torso. I thought she had a controller somewhere that 'adjusted' the tightness of the collars, and would try to choke me (wouldn't put it past her, she's evil, I tell you). But I wore them anyway and I must say, they're not as constricting as they look._

_ANYWAY. Jeez, do I have ADD or something? I got off topic WAY too easy. Maybe I DID blow a circuit…_

_I took all of the information from my old PAK and transferred it to the new one. It'll still be defective, mind you, since the bugs are in the data. That way I'll still be the same Irken, just with a different PAK. ….. I remember when the Tallest called me defective. They had called ME defective. And I still disagree._

_I'M not defective. My PAK is defective. I'm not. The Tallest do not seem to understand the difference between organic life and machine. A living organism cannot be defective. A PAK, though I do need it to survive, is not alive. I'm alive. A PAK is a machine; therefore it possesses the ability to be defective. And mine is. But that doesn't mean that I, the owner of the PAK, share that trait._

_Sometimes, I just want to contact the Massive and scream. Scream out my anger and frustration. I used to be so loyal, so confident to my empire, and they leave me on a planet to die? I'd call them cowards, had they not blocked my transmissions. Cowards, for sending me here and not just deactivating me like you would any other criminal or defect._

_Sigh. I'm getting far too caught up in my memories. Maybe it's my new PAK, still getting used to the new data when it had been blank for so long._

…

_Heh. That sounded like a metaphor kind of thing, didn't it? I was blank for a long time too. All my life, actually. Blank to my surroundings, to the people around me, absorbing nothing. And then, two years ago, when I learned the errors of my ways, and realization hit me. I was filled with new knowledge remembering all the times I screwed up, all the times I refused to listen. Hurt, pain, regret. Just a select few of the new feelings living with humans has taught me. _

_I'm not like other Irkens. Irkens are cruel, heartless and evil, while I…_

_I'm defective. I can love (if I chose to), I can regret, I can have feelings. I can feel remorse while other Irkens cannot._

_And it kills me._

_People just don't understand. Irken's PAKs do not just become defective. We are born with it. So we can't change whether they're faulty or not. Most people don't understand that it's not our fault. I mean, it's not like I wouldn't change it if I could! Oh, if I could help it, things would be different. Things would be very different. I would be out there, on the Massive, guarding my leaders from harm, or fighting for the Empire's rights, or on an enemy planet, preparing it for conquest. Not here, on this spinning ball of dirt doing nothing._

…_But there's nothing I can do about it. It's too late, and this is my life now. Wearing a hologram just to fit in, slowly going insane by a stupid robot and malfunctioning computer. It would comfort me greatly just to see another of my kind, no matter friendly or hostile. These humans are getting to me. _

_Sigh. I think I'm done. I should get some sleep. I suppose I'll write again tomorrow._

_Zim_


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay. For some reason, this story is really fun to write. Probably why I'm up at 2:30 A.M. writing it. XD**

**Enjoy Chapter 2!**

_Dear Diary/Journal/WHATEVER,_

_Today was weird. I knew from the time that I woke up that something was up. I think Dib sensed it too, because he didn't annoy me as much today, thankfully._

_Despite the feeling, most of the day went normally. As normally as an Earth day can be, anyway. I woke up, went to Hi Skool, ENDURED Hi Skool, went home, yelled at GIR for something, and then, well._

_Then it happened._

_GIR suddenly shut off, eyes, antenna and chest cavity dulling to gray, GIR himself is falling to the ground with a CLANK. I looked him over, tried to find the problem, but nothing was wrong. And he still wouldn't wake up. He couldn't have been sleeping, his eyes still glow when he's asleep. I got to thinking…_

_Was GIR really made to be working for as long as I've had him? I mean, it's been seven years…and we was just made out of trash and leftover change. "It's not stupid. It's ADVANCED." Pfft. Liar. If he was an advanced piece of technology, he wouldn't of fallen apart when I picked him up to search his head again. I picked his lifeless form up, about to open his head when his arms, torso, and legs fell apart. The only thing still attached was his neck. I didn't wonder too much why, since trash was not meant to be held together for seven years._

_That doesn't mean it didn't have an effect on me. GIR was really my only companion on this miserable planet, and now he was totaled beyond repair. He had stuck by my side when I was a mess, comforted me in his weird robot way. He didn't follow my orders and more often than not destroyed my plans, but he given me something the Empire had never given me:_

_Loyalty._

_He never left my side longer than a day (to get tacos, mostly; that, or dancing.) I knew I would never have to worry about him leaving me for one of his fetishes. He helped with the mission alongside me. He took the news that the mission was fake alongside me. Always alongside me. I was his master; he did not care that I was defective, that I was considered a murderer. Being defective and looked down upon by others was something we had in common. He was my friend. My companion, my sidekick._

_And now I was forced to throw him away. Well, I almost threw him away._

_I got to the large dumpster on the other end of the street (I didn't bother with my hologram; It was night as nobody would see me anyway), but when I got there, I realized…_

_I didn't want to throw him away with all that other filth._

_GIR was better than your average trash, superior. I decided he deserved a proper burial. So I walked back to the base, still cradling him in my arms. GIR was just another example of the things I take for granted. I'm on my own now; I can't afford to lose anything else._

_I went to my small backyard and manually- not with my PAK legs- dug a hole just big enough for him. I set him in and began putting the dirt back. I ran down to the lower reaches of the base and found a slab of spare metal._

_I got a burner out of my PAK and carved into the slab:_

_HERE LIES GIR_

_A LOYAL MINION AND FRIEND_

_It was a little sloppy, seeing as I was never really a carver, but it was readable. I returned to the hole I dug and slammed the grave into the ground next to it._

…

_That was two hours ago, now. Computer didn't seem all that upset about GIR's departure ("This just means less ice cream spilled on my circuits.") _

_I'm going to sleep. When all is lost, sleep on it, as the humans say. _

_Zim_


End file.
